


it's written there in the stars

by rainsought



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Excessive use of petnames, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Jisung likes the sun, Kiss Kiss Fall in Love, Kissing, M/M, Minho being whipped for Jisung in 2.7k words or so, Mutual Pining, Prose Poem, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sha la la la, They are so in love, Time Skips, Wax Poetic about Minho and Jisung, pretty words, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsought/pseuds/rainsought
Summary: “I am grateful, for the time we have to make up for all that was lost, for the time I have now to love you,” Minho murmurs again, when the seasons blur together and autumn is just around the corner. The clandestine tint of orange fluorescence in the form of words left unsaid, dangling at the tip of their tongues now burst without barriers; they have come so far from where they started.“I love you,” Jisung whispers, almost secretive, defined lavender in a mosaic of broken, shattered glass, staining the linoleum in leftover lilac and iridescent indigo. For the ephemeral ones, the ones whom dazzling light embraces with a whisper of celestial ministrations; and the ones who bask within a mistral, laid in between the syzygy with hands reaching out for one another have finally met. Their souls no longer linger in the dark, rather reaching towards the equilibrium and continuum of one another.They fall in love next to warm hues and greens fading into harvest, the space between their love a breadth away. Their hands clasped and tangled, with lovely words uttered by rosy lips, lingering kisses scattered across the horizon of their bodies.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19
Collections: SKZ Jukebox Fest Speed Round





	it's written there in the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!! I hope you've all been taking care! This fic was inspired off of NIKI's Pandemonium, from her latest album Moonchild (please check it out, it's gorgeous i promise)! 
> 
> Alcohol is mentioned, specifically champagne, so if you'd like to skip that, it starts at the New Year's scene with "It’s nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve, when he asks..."
> 
> A huge thank you to Vie [(@yeongwonlino)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeypressed), who beta-ed and screamed with me at the brink of dawn <3 Much love to them, and please check out their amazing writing as well! I'm sure you'll love it :D
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you'll enjoy this. Be sure to stick around for the ending note and come back after reveals!
> 
> EDIT: Yay, reveals are out!! Socials added and minor editing!

Falling in love is easy, especially with _him_ , Minho muses. Letting go and falling from the heavens, should have been harder. Plunging out of Pandæmonium, mimicking the comets and shooting stars was how it was always described to be. Instead, it was as easy at breathing, except now he would truly _need_ to breathe. 

They had no need for such things, for they were meant to be the epitome of knowledge and offer insight, nothing more and nothing less.

Lee Minho quite literally, falls in love all over again, for the boy he has loved from afar for a plethora of lives, falls down, down, down; for the one who has waited eons. He falls, when the state of grace grants them this final life, to live as they wish. A gift, perhaps. A gift, poised in the stance of meeting with the envoy of the mundane world to bring forth reforms, but this chance is as good as he can reach for.

And he knows, that Jisung is ever so patient against the tides of the ocean threatening at his wavering spirit, pulling back the hope he holds so dear. 

When the horizons fade from brilliant gold to grey, the realization rolls over him like a lull in the sea, ocean waves calling and dying in the dark. Faintly, he feels a tug at the end of the bond, the same gentle reassurance he has been given for the past eons. They’ve waited long enough for a chance like this.

And so, Minho falls.

  
  
  
  


The door crashes open, wide eyes meeting his own, so overcome with emotion. The same eyes he has been searching for in his dreams and more, _finally,_ meet his. Gentle hands thumb away the crystal spilling from his eyes, how he’s missed this gentleness, how could he had ever almost forgotten the exact texture of his palms. The depth of molten amber and oak in his eyes, the undulated joy in his smiles and still, after so long, it still remains unchanged.

“You’re home,” Jisung breathes, almost questioning as if he can’t fathom the sheer fact that Minho stands before him. Even when blue and black with somber emotion and the troubles they face, Jisung is still sweeter than any saccharine potion; sweeter than the sweetest rubies of summer harvests. 

“I’m home,” Minho replies in a near-whisper, the words tumbling from his lips and swallowed up by the careful press of Jisung’s lips against his; a promise of more to come. They have waited long enough to finally be reunited, and still, the fear that it may vanish all too soon, that it is but a dream in a dream under hazy billows of sleep-laden smoke.

What a relief it is, that the distance between them now is only for the sharp intake of air and not a universe apart. What a relief it is indeed, to allow their longing to be acted upon, to be able to be embraced in each other’s arms. 

And with this written in the stars, something in the universe rightens itself, a pillar of their love only strengthens.

  
  
  
  


It’s nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve, when he asks. Minho’s hair grazes his forehead again, as his eyes search for a specific person. The wind isn’t that strong up on the rooftop of the beach house, per se, but it’s enough to cause chills to crawl up Minho’s spine.

Perhaps, it's a warning to reconsider— There is no going back, not from this. 

He’s starting to mildly regret giving his jacket to Jisung, though he's sure he'll be just fine. Something about finding them champagne to act as if they were in some kind of Hollywood film, but the timing hinted towards Jisung getting away so he didn’t have to answer Minho’s question. He sighs, leaning on the paned railing. 

He hadn't asked for an answer right away, nor would he ever force his lover into a hasty decision. Distantly, an upbeat song blasts from a speaker, the party screaming the countdown in quaint happiness. 

Minho almost envies them, to find such glee in the years that have nearly become a chore for him. 

He wonders if he will ever be used to the art of living, rather than surviving as immortal ones do. This art of shaded life granted out of completing a cycle is something he won’t take for granted, even if it means to never return to their celestial state. To rip away the veils placed over the all-seeing, all-knowing, and embrace the core of humanity is a keen price, fitting to pay in exchange for love.

They have both done it once, twice, many times— taking the places of the ones who do not return in agonizing years; though this time, they will remain here, if Jisung agrees.

It takes the last tidbit of the year for Jisung to find his way to Minho, for plush pillowy lips to meet with the answer long sought for— A promise that whispers of modern fairytales and happy endings even at the end of time. It’s Jisung who pulls away, beaming, eyes full of glistening stars, and dreams yet to be dreamt. 

It’s easy to get drunk on these saccharine affirmations, as gentle as the spring breeze caressing the cherry blossoms. Jisung holds him close, ever so gently and then it’s over, all too soon. Though, there is no end to the love they give and receive. 

“Happy New Year, my sweet; I wish you a year of new beginnings,” Jisung pauses, pulling himself upright to lock his eyes with Minho. “And I wish for a new year with you, for the years that have yet to come.” Jisung’s eyes crinkle at the edges, full-blown happiness radiating from him and the glitter sparkles like stardust on his full cheeks, tinted with pink. The shyness in their life has never seemed to move on, even as the years go by.

"Happy New Year indeed, lovely," he murmurs against Jisung's lips, their skin flecked with the brightest of golds and a myriad of love. And when Minho smiles, Jisung believes the sun may have a rival for the brightest across universes. 

Happiness comes in the countless blessings of Han Jisung, such a beautiful thing that brings tears brimming in his eyes. 

  
  
  
  


It’s later in winter, or some time close to it. Frigid weather brings numbing coldness, coldness that only Jisung can melt away. At this hour, Minho’s lying on his half of the bed, eyes drooping downwards from exhaustion. It isn’t the first time, nor is it the second or tenth time this has happened; that he’s up until ungodly hours waiting for Jisung to come back from the forest. Part of him doesn’t mind anyways, but another part wishes that Jisung wouldn’t keep away from himself that much. 

"The forgotten still need someone to remember, even when the abundance of universes forget," Jisung would say with the sweetest smile, generations worth of emotion behind his eyes— It is far too much and too long of a tale for Minho to even scrape the surface of his will. 

The burden should not be— is not, Jisung's to carry alone. 

It’s late, when the front door opens and creaks closed. Jisung trying to be quiet is one of the many miracles in December that’s happened so far the bed dips down and arms find their way around Minho’s stomach, a face pressed to where his shoulder and neck meet. 

“I’m back, love,” Jisung mumbles, the words mouthed against Minho’s neck, at the juncture of his shoulder. There’s exhaustion laced in his voice, but still the ever-present loving undertone that’s a constant when talking to his lover. Their words have never not been laced with love, even the cruel ones which were uttered with worried tones. 

“Come back earlier next time, darling. It’s lonely without you.” Minho turned, wrapping his arms around Jisung, pouting as his eyes crinkle slightly; trying to refocus. Jisung only lets a smile blossom and unfurl on his lips. It’s sweet, to have moments like these; where it’s only them. 

_I cannot bear to be away from you for long, after waiting centuries,_ goes unsaid. Understanding is bliss in the form of Jisung’s lips on his again, and again; even when they dissolve into laughter. Minho wouldn’t even know where to start, to count all the blessings Jisung has bestowed upon him.

It has only ever been them against the entire world; the two of them running away from the cruel words that haunt their nightmares, and the disappointment from acquaintances. Their found family is composed of each other, and though it is lonely, having one another is more than enough. Cowardly, some would claim; but like this, they allow themselves a sliver of this world's normality. 

He awakens to soft sunlight curving at the dips of Jisung’s collarbones and an abundance of shapes traced on his skin from where his shirt’s slipped down. This, is something he's come to treasure, even though most somber mornings follow such a pattern. Never does this grow old, nor does being in the presence of the countless blessings in the form of Han Jisung.

"Hello dearest," Jisung coos, more melodic than any songbird perched at the windowsill, "Did you sleep well? Dream of anything interesting?" Minho hums, gracing his lips with a chaste kiss, almost, just almost, allowing himself another. They do not need to hesitate anymore, not here, when they have all the time in the world to show their love.

"You know my dreams are full of you, my love," Minho promises, "Only you." To be awake is better, to face a Jisung this is reality, so full of life— so full of love.

And something in Jisung’s eyes shift when he leans down to press their lips together, and Minho is once again caught in Jisung’s orbit. 

  
  
  
  


Spring unfurls and blooms in bountiful colour, and the forest grows lighter upon their presence. Here, Jisung would’ve burst into tears if he were here to see the invisible remnants of the deathly state of the forest. The once colorful array of evening primrose accompanied with violets, the pale pinks of roses and aromatic lavender faded into browns and decay. Lush trees where apples and fruits used to hang had toppled over, berry bushes trampled and branches snapped. 

With their care and love, it only grows back into the full canopy it once was. Amidst these blossoms though, Minho thinks that Jisung may be the prettiest of them all, from where he sits. 

Ethereal evergreens scattered across the cobblestones, brushed across fingertips in pining desire that stains and refuses to wash out, carefully intertwining into a crown of flowers. Melancholy melodies of vivid blues hold bare, under gossamer shades of pearlescent light and trying to get a glimpse of the lovers. And the crushed petals of sunshine, sugared saccharine ichor dribbled with sunflowers dipped with breathless laughter, sweeter than any honey that drips from his lips in the shape of loving words— Like this, the haze clears once again.

They head home with a basket of flowers and baubles of berries, a flower crown of brilliant blooms perched on Minho's head and Jisung's hand in his.

  
  
  
  
  


There is no word that can predominantly even come near to describe what he has with Jisung. Soulmates, or destined lovers may be as close as this vernacular language can get. Outside in the summer heat, neither of them notice until Jisung places his cool hands on his own. On reflex, Minho's eyes drift shut, a soft sigh escaping as the tension in his shoulders fades. 

The contrast between them has always kept them well, and he finds that if this is how life will be, then truthfully, he does not quite mind. To another’s eye, they seem simple and enamoured. To them, this is simply centuries worth of love and longing for someone they have found again.

“We should go back home soon,” Jisung says, tangling their fingers as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Home, a word so different, yet a word so full of love. Home, Minho muses, is wherever Jisung is.

They walk home before the sun can watch their retreating figures with sea glass tucked in their pockets and a trail of seashells, and the summer winds whisper in gusts. 

Later, the monotone click and whirring of the air conditioner starting up, right at the peak of the sweltering summer heat. Minho had expected more, maybe a bit more of cooling wind, but he refutes, not wanting to disturb Jisung by opening the windows and all— not that it'd help with reducing the heat anyways. 

It’s become so routine, so mundane to him to find Jisung sprawled out on the paned flooring in the same manner a cat would, right in front of the glass sliding door that leads to the balcony. Sunbathing doesn't quite seem like the right term for it, but there was something about this that was so mesmerizing, so delicate and intimate. 

It’s as if the floor were a swimming pool instead, the suncatchers casting colour across his features as he lays there, head resting on the bundle of blankets curled into a makeshift pillow. He doesn’t know if he’s asleep, but still, Minho quietly makes his way over, settling on the couch with a fond smile. It won’t take long for Jisung to move in order to chase after the diluted sunlight, slowly fading from the darkening sky.

Proven right, when the clouds shroud the sun in grey, Jisung’s eyes open in annoyance. Rubbing at his eyes, the absence of warmth isn’t something he particularly enjoys. Hastily pushing himself up, he pauses in his ministrations, staring in sheer awe. Dyed in brilliant orange and reds, outlining his shimmering skin as the sun began its descent down to seal the end of the day, like a candle’s flames snuffing out.

“You’re so pretty,” Minho murmurs, a gentle thing, startling Jisung from his entranced state. It isn’t an exaggerated truth, but more of a statement because he isn’t shy when dishing out compliments— He never is, when it comes to Jisung. Still, Jisung squirms from where he’s seated in the swirl of blankets, not used to such words of affirmation. He isn't uncomfortable, because he's always felt safe with Minho, but it was more of disbelief that _he_ would ever classify someone like him at such a high level of beauty.

“You know you're prettier," he replies, "And you know that I will always, _always_ love you just as much and more,” Jisung beams, scampering up and into Minho’s arms to drink in the warmth. It's with every ounce of truth he has in him that Minho wishes he could express his love and admiration to Jisung in the same way that's carried on. But he knows that Jisung always, always knows.

Perhaps for them, it is easy to love and be loved. 

  
  
  
  


“I am grateful, for the time we have to make up for all that was lost, for the time I have now to love you,” Minho murmurs again, when the seasons blur together and autumn is just around the corner. The clandestine tint of orange fluorescence in the form of words left unsaid, dangling at the tip of their tongues now burst without barriers; they have come so far from where they started. 

“I love you,” Jisung whispers again and again, almost secretive, defined lavender in a mosaic of broken, shattered glass, staining the linoleum in leftover lilac and iridescent indigo. For the ephemeral ones, the ones whom dazzling light embraces with a whisper of celestial ministrations; and the ones who bask within a mistral, laid in between the syzygy with hands reaching out for one another have finally met. Their souls no longer linger in the dark, rather reaching towards the equilibrium and continuum of one another.

They fall in love next to warm hues and greens fading into harvest, the space between their love a breadth away. Their hands clasped and tangled, with lovely words uttered by rosy lips, lingering kisses scattered across the horizon of their bodies. 

For the bony structures intertwined with the flesh and blood at the bane of existence, the art of living has never been harder, never needed more to barter, never needed more to offer— Has it been enough?

Yes, Minho muses. It is more than enough to fall for Jisung, again and again and to be loved as much as he loves. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to clarify that this was purposely vague with the intent that Minho himself has been away from Jisung for so long, despite being destined to fall in love and all that, their duty comes first!! Minho is hinted to be some sort of fallen angel but not actually an angel and Jisung is a makeshift guardian of the forest but they're in love and that's all that matter ahahahaadhshdskjs,, This was also meant to just be a glimpse of their lives at the time, like snapshots!
> 
> And there you have it! Parts of this was taken from my award-winning poetry actually, hopefully it wasn't terrible ;; they only deserve all that is good and beautiful :( I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did with writing this, and I'll be back to add on my socials after reveals! Have a lovely day! <3
> 
> EDIT: surprise surprise!! i really hope you enjoyed reading this ;w; this lovely is my absolute babie ahaha
> 
> Come talk to me and let's be friends!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/citrusblush/)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/lavendergloss)


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